31. Quinn
CHAPTER 31
QUINN
“ Q uinn?” Knox asks when we’re both cleaned up and back in his bed.
My head rests on his chest, the steady beat of his heart lulling me towards sleep. The moonlight streams in through the blinds we have forgotten to close, painting Knox’s face with stripes of soft light. I admire the straight bridge of his nose, his lips, his dark eyes when I shift to look at him only to find him already staring at me.
His fingers dance across my forearm where it’s resting between his biceps, a gentle pattern that makes me feel safe and loved.
“Yes?”
“Did you mean it?” He asks, and the softness of his voice in the dark feels like a secret, and the fact that he used my name instead of the endearing ‘Princess’ he so often calls me has my body tensing before I can stop it.
Knox feels it anyway.
I wrack my brain, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. I shift through the haze of tonight, the things he said, the things I’ve said. Through the all of the touches and kisses and promises pressed into skin.
And then it hits me.
“About wanting you to give me a tattoo?”
Knox’s eyes shutter as if he’s thinking about it. I don’t fail to notice the twitching of his cock beneath the sheet, pressed against the leg I have slung over his thigh.
My pussy clenches in response. I bite back a smile, enjoying the way that he reacts to my words.
“Yes,” he answers, almost nervously.
I brush a few strands of damp hair from his forehead. When we went to shower, Knox showed me a thing or two, sinking to his knees between my legs until I could barely hold myself up. Then, he proceeded to lather my body in soap, massaging it into my aching muscles.
Knox catches my hand, intertwining our fingers and presses a chaste kiss to my palm. I never thought that he’d turn out to be so tender and kind beneath that harsh exterior he normally wears.
My stomach flutters at the thought of him so soft and compassionate only with me.
“Yes, Knox,” I answer and he smiles. My heart soars at the sight of him so bright-eyed. “I meant it.”
I squeal as he rolls us, caging me between his forearms. His cock is thickening against my leg, but I don’t have time to really appreciate it because he’s slanting his mouth over mine, thoroughly distracting me.
A quick sweep of his tongue parts my lips and my fingers find their way to his hair, digging in deeply. I keep him close with an encouraging noise, wrapping my legs around his waist as Knox rolls his hips.
“I’ll give you something good, Princess,” he says against my mouth, rubbing his cock through my slit, easily finding my arousal waiting for him. I melt into the pillows, the soft mattress in bliss. I’m just as ready for another round as he is, and at this rate, we won’t be sleeping at all tonight.
As long as I’m with Knox, though, I don’t care.
I snort at his words, shaking with laughter. “Yeah, right. You’d be more likely to tattoo a dick somewhere on me.”
“How about somewhere in you?” He asks, teasing my entrance with his tip. My fit of giggles dissolves into a moan, the feeling of his cock, bare against my wet pussy is immaculate.
I pull him down for another desperate kiss.
“Yes, please,” I say, somewhere between breathing and kissing. Knox removes himself from me and I whine, but he’s shushing me softly as he reaches into his bedside table for another condom. Sitting back, he rolls it on his thick length with ease while I take an appreciative glance down his body.
Knox is back on top of me within seconds, stealing a peck against my mouth before pulling away, eyes serious. I don’t know how he can take anything seriously right now, but I give him my attention anyway.
“I’ll give you whatever you want, Princess.”
If he wasn’t talking about tattoos, I’d swoon.
“Even if I want something silly?” I ponder, moaning loudly when Knox doesn’t hesitate to align his hips with mine and shove forward. My legs wind around his waist, pulling him even closer to me, tracing his smooth skin, the rippling muscles of his back as he begins moving.
Knox’s hum against my throat sends shivers skittering up my spine. “Even if you want something silly,” he promises, speaking through the kisses he’s peppering across my body. “I can see you with something more meaningful, too, if you want. Something that represents you as you are.” His mouth finds mine and our hips slap together in a rough thrust. His eyes are soft, determined, and proud. “Something that shows your grace, your beauty, your innocence,” he jokes, climbing back up to nip at the tip of my nose. I laugh, but there’s something about his words settles a piece of my heart.
It's something that I thought I’ve lost. Something that’s been tamped down since I turned thirteen and won first place in the art fair for my drawing of two swans with their beaks pressed together, forming a heart. One of them was dark, and the other was a pristine white, opposites, just like Knox and I.
“Knox,” I gasp as it hits me like a wave. His compliments, how he’s described me like I’m his dream.
He makes a noise of agreement, unaware of the sudden burst of creativity he’s given me.
“That’s it, Princess. Say my name just like that.”
“Knox,” I whine a little this time. “Baby, baby, wait a second,” I pant, shoving at his shoulders. I want him, and I’m absolutely planning on finishing this with my boyfriend, but I need to tell him what’s come over me.
He pauses, pulling away.
His dark brows are furrowed with worry and I’m quick to soothe him. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” I shake my head firmly, offering him a consoling smile. “You’ve given me the best idea. I know what I’m going to draw for my project.”
Knox grins, kissing me excitedly. I can’t stop beaming, finally feeling the exhilaration I’ve been yearning for all these years. I’m jittery and nervous, but it’s thrilling, my heart beating heavily in my chest.
I feel full.
It makes me want to laugh when Knox looks down between our bodies where we’re connected. His eyes flick back up to mine and I grimace a little. Parting from him sounds less than appealing .
“Do you need to go right now?”
This time, I can’t help myself, laughing, full and happy. Knox groans at the fluttering of my pussy clenching around his cock. He buries his face into my neck and I thread my fingers through his hair, enjoying the solid weight of his body on mine. “Oh no, Knox, I’m not leaving you until you’ve fucked me so thoroughly, I can only see stars.”
I can feel his lips curling into a grin against my skin. I can’t help but to smile along with him.
“That,” Knox says, pulling away with a wicked smirk, his eyes gleaming beautifully. “I can do.”
“Quinn?” Knox asks me sometime later when we’ve managed to clean ourselves up again and actually try to sleep.
It’s not coming easily.
That jittery excitement still buzzes beneath my skin. For the first time in years, I’m feeling creative, like whatever I make next is going to be groundbreaking, and once I put my pencil to the paper, I’m going to be unstoppable.
To say that I don’t know where this is coming from would be a lie. Knox’s whispered words have embedded themselves in my brain, in my heart, and every time I close my eyes to attempt to fall into the sleep trying to drag my eyelids down, they ring in my head over and over until I’m biting back an eager smile.
“Yes?” I answer, not moving from where I’m resting my head on his chest. Apparently, sleep isn’t coming very easily to Knox, either, but I’m unsure why.
His fingers stroke my hair again, a soothing motion he’s been doing since we settled in this position. I enjoy the occasional brush of his blunt nails against my scalp, scratching my head.
“Are you still awake?”
I want to snort so badly at his question. “Wow, nothing gets by you. Did the fact that I answered you when you called my name make you think I was asleep?”
I squeak at the teasing pinch to my cheek he gives me, swatting at his chest that’s shaking with laughter. I can’t help but join him. I enjoy this side of Knox, the happier, freer side that he doesn’t show anyone outside of his trusted circle.
“You could’ve been saying yes to anything.” His tone takes on that familiar teasing one that makes my aching thighs clench. We might have gone too many rounds tonight, is what my tender pussy is telling me. “Could’ve been having the best dream about me stuffing my cock into your drenched pussy, Princess, begging me for more.”
“Stop,” I beg, even though my body is going hot with his words. Knox buries his fingers in my hair with a deep chuckle, holding me close. “I can’t go another round tonight. You’ve ruined me.”
I ignore the way his chest puffs with pride.
“Back when we had our date,” he starts, and I know where this is heading. The night of our first date when we went spray painting a few towns over, I’d blurted out about the imposter syndrome that had taken root so deeply I wasn’t sure I would ever know what life would feel like without it again. I’d clammed up, cutting the conversation short, but it’s been looming between us ever since. “We haven’t had a chance to talk more about it. I want to know how you’ve been feeling since then?”
My heart soars in my chest. This man is incredible. He hasn’t forgotten our conversation, and even though I may have wanted him to because I was embarrassed about it at the time, he’s been thinking about it. Thinking about me.
I’m overcome with emotion.
“Good,” I answer, smiling softly. “I think I’ve finally found my muse.”
“Oh yeah?” He questions, peering down at me curiously. “What is it?”
“I think you mean to ask who is it?”
He takes the bait. “Okay, who is it?”
“Guess.”
“Quinn,” Knox grumbles warningly. He’s not one for dragging out teasing unless he’s the one keeping me on the edge of orgasm until I’m crying and begging like a harlot to come. This is nothing like that, so he doesn’t need to be so moody.
His thumbs brush across the sensitive skin around my nipples, drawing them into tight circles that make me hiss. I want him to touch them, to pinch them and kiss them and bite them.
Knox gives me a knowing smirk in return for the glare I shoot him.
Apparently, two can play at this game.
“It’s you,” I breathe out, more than interested in the way his fingers roam my body sensually. They’re rough against my skin, dragging in the most delicious of ways. I love everything that he does to me, and that thought awakens all of my nerve endings.
“Me?” He teases lightly, but his touch is a taunt. It’s moving lower, a hand slipping through our legs, the tips of his fingers brushing the insides of my thighs that his hips are pinning open for him. My pussy is a weeping, aching traitor. “What made you decide that?”
“What you said earlier changed my way of thinking. It reminded me of exactly why I loved drawing in the first place.” I think back on my first drawing competition where I took home the first-place ribbon for my piece of the two swans. What I felt at the time was a pride so intense that I carried that ribbon around all weekend, showing it to anyone who would give me attention. My parents and brother were happy because I was happy. I drew that swan because I wanted to, and I drew it for me.
I won that competition because I loved my work because of me. I spent those hours putting in the effort and it didn’t matter if I won or lost because I was proud of the finished product.
“Somewhere along the way,” I continue, playing with his hair. “I stopped drawing for myself and started doing it for others. I started drawing what they wanted to see, what they suggested. I stopped drawing what I really wanted and started pleasing those around me, and sometimes it wasn’t even people who knew anything about art at all.” I want to snort, because the thought of letting someone who doesn’t know a fucking thing about drawing critique my work is totally ridiculous. “Your love for your own art is inspiring. You don’t let anything get in your way or keep you from trying to achieve your goals, not even your past. You don’t care about what other people think, you are completely and unabashedly yourself, Knox. And I love you so much, for that and so many other reasons,” I rant, blurting out the thing that has been on my mind for a while but didn’t think would come out during a conversation like this.
It feels good, finally admitting it to him, but when Knox’s body goes tight against mine, my heart drops into my stomach.
I sit up quickly, my mind racing. I hadn’t meant to blurt them out like that, but it doesn’t make them any less true. I thought he felt the same way. I thought?—
“I’m sorry, I?—”
“Quinn,” Knox calls, and I haven’t managed to untangle myself from the sheets before he’s following me, locking his arms around my waist to pull me back into him. My chest is heaving, blinking away the stinging in my eyes. Knox’s breath is hot in my ear. “You’re not going to admit that and think I’m letting you leave, right Princess?”
“I didn’t mean to say it,” I answer quickly, my anxiety rising again. The fact that he’d only stiffened against me and still hasn’t said it back has a sick feeling crawling up my throat. I can’t be here if he doesn’t feel the same. “It just slipped out,” I manage weakly, slumping against him when it’s clear he isn’t going to let me go.
Maybe it’s a good sign.
Knox maneuvers me easily and I hate the way that my pussy clenches at his bulging muscles. He pins me to the mattress, draping himself over me so there’s really no chance for escape.
The room is dark but through the soft light coming from the street lamps outside, I can make out his serious face, the straight of his jaw and lips, his intense eyes focused on me.
“But you meant it. Right?” It’s not a soft question, but a stern one, like I should choose my answer very carefully.
I swallow harshly. I want to reach out, to brush back the onyx hair falling across his forehead, fix it on the top where it’s been mussed from our earlier endeavors. I want to rub that crease between his brows because now that I’ve had a little taste of loving Knox, it hurts to see him so stoic again.
My voice is loud in the quiet of the night even though it’s barely a whisper. I swear my heart is beating louder than the admission that passes my lips .
“Yes.”
It takes all of a millisecond before Knox is shoving himself forward, connecting his lips with mine. A zip of electricity passes through us and my limbs wind around his of their own will, pulling him even closer.
The kiss is hot and heated, a battle as our tongues slide over each other.
“Say it again,” he begs me, and I do.
“I love you,” I repeat, and this time he’s tasting it directly from my lips. Knox’s hands are tight where they’re holding me, like I’m still trying to run away. His cock is hot and hard against my thigh, and I might be working up to another round after all.
When Knox finally pulls away from me, his eyes are sparkling and he’s sporting the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. He’s utterly breath-taking when he’s happy.
“I love you too, Quinn.”
My jaw falls slack but I don’t stew in my surprise for long because his mouth slants back over mine and we’re rolling, touching everywhere, the both of us losing ourselves in each other.
“You love me?” I question, breathing heavily when we finally manage to pull apart.
I feel so full, so excited and love-drunk and dizzy. I kiss Knox again because I can’t help myself. He loves me.
“I love you so fucking much, Princess. More than I’ve ever loved anything.”
“Even more than your motorcycle?” I tease, and he rolls his eyes at me, tickling my sides.
I squeal, writhing underneath him. The movement makes his cock brush my entrance and we’re both dissolving into moans, the amusement melting into a heavy arousal that screams loudly in the dark .
“Even more than my motorcycle,” Knox answers, his eyes heated with desire. He kisses my cheek. “Even more than tattooing.” He works his way across my collar bones to the other side of my face and I arch up into him to reach his soft lips. Knox shifts so our mouths are millimeters apart, so I can taste his next words as he says them. “Even more than drawing.”